The Chase
by Camayane
Summary: "The only thing you need to know about me and Monroe," Charlie said, "is this, that I want him dead. And that I will stop at nothing until he's crawling at my feet, three arrows piercing his chest. I think that sums up our relationship pretty well, don't you think?"
1. Chapter 1 - On Their Merry Way

Hey guys!

I've been quite obsessed with this couple for two weeks, well since the Season 2 premiere actually. So this story is just a way to get it out of my head.

Hope you enjoy it.

The story takes place right after the end of episode 2, so it will probably differ from the tv show from now on. I do not own Revolution or the show would have a lot more of Bass/Charlie scenes going on!

* * *

**The Chase**

**Chapter 1 - On Their Merry Way**

* * *

"I think "I told you so" is in order, right?" Charlie snared.

She glanced at the bounty hunter in the moonlight. He was disheveled, his hair slightly tousled and his dark shirt wrinkled. A fight with Sebastian Monroe would do that to you. And he was lucky she had arrived in time to save him. A few seconds later and he would have been choked to death. That wouldn't have been a great loss, since he was the one who had prevented her from killing Monroe and had let him escape in the first place. But well, she wasn't _that_ cruel.

"Shut up," he said with a glare.

Looking at both of them, abandoned on the road with no food, no weapons and no means of transportation, Monroe was probably laughing his head off by now.

Charlie started to head in the opposite direction the bastard had gone, to retrieve her crossbow from the bounty hunters' former camp, intent on leaving the poor sap behind her. But it seemed the said poor sap didn't agree with her.

"Where're you going?" he asked abruptly, taking her arm in the process.

She shook it a little until he let her go.

"I'm going to find my crossbow, and then I'm going to kill Monroe. You got a problem with that?"

"He killed my partner," was all the man said.

"What's your point? I think I was pretty clear this morning about him escaping and leaving you with nothing. You're the one who didn't listen to good advice."

"Okay okay, I get it. I should've killed him. But I'm a bounty hunter, okay? When my employer says to bring someone alive, that's what I do. If I want to get paid, that is."

She couldn't contradict him on that. However, she could contradict him on the fact that he should've paid better attention to a highly lethal prisoner such as Sebastian Monroe, former president of the Monroe Republic. But she didn't. He wasn't worth her time.

"Fine. Be on your merry way, then. I'll be on mine. Let the best man win."

"Wait," he said again before she could get away from him, "Don't bother going back to our camp. Your crossbow was on the wagon."

"It just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

"Listen, I know we started on the wrong foot," he started to say.

"You mean, when you took a shot at me? Or when you fastened me to that swimming pool? Because I can seem to decide which one I prefer."

"Could you stop your sarcasm for one minute? I'm trying to be nice here. And for the record, I wouldn't have shot you if you hadn't been trying to kill my prisoner. Anyway, as you said yourself, Monroe is too dangerous to try and catch alone. And I guess that's what I am now, alone. How about we call it a truce and partner up?"

"You gotta be kidding me, right? You and me? Partners? Please! For one, you and I want very different things. You want him alive and I want him dead. How's that gonna work?"

"Wrong, I want_ed_ him alive. Now, I'm not so sure. Accidents happen."

"Not so nice anymore, eh?"

"Like I said, he killed my partner."

"Right, sorry about that. He seemed like a nice fellow, beard, eye-patch and foreign talking aside. But I work alone."

"Monroe knows you're after him. You don't have the element of surprise anymore. No offense but you really think you'd last one minute against him in a fight?"

He was right of course, damn it all to hell, but he was. She wasn't stupid enough to think that she could beat him face to face. No, her only shot at him was when he wasn't aware of her presence. And now that Monroe knew she was on his heels, he'd be even harder to kill. He was like her uncle Miles, a great force to be reckoned with. The only way to kill either one of them was to do it when they least expected it.

So now what? That meant the hunter was right. They needed to become allies if they wanted a chance at catching him.

"I'll agree," she finally whispered, "but only if you promise that I'll be the one to kill him."

"Done," the hunter seemed happy somewhat, " What did he do to you anyway? To make you so vindictive."

Charlie ignored him and began to walk, following the path made by the wagon wheels.

"None of my business, message received."

He started to follow her. Despite all, his presence was reassuring. This wasn't safe territory and without her weapons to defend herself, she felt naked. She was hardly weak at hand combat, but against a bunch of guys with guns? Even her skills wouldn't do her much good.

Still, it didn't make him less annoying. Adam, since he told her that was his name, made a few attempts at starting conversation until Charlie's silence finally shut him up. Actually, the only word that left her mouth was her own name.

It was dark, she was hungry, thirsty and tired but she didn't falter one bit. Her resolution was stronger that any weakness she might feel.

A few hours later, when the sun was almost up, they found the wagon left abandoned on the road. The two horses were gone, and with them Monroe.

"Clever," Adam said when he noticed the two trails leading in two different directions, "he let one horse go and took the other so we'd have a 50/50 percent chance of going the wrong way."

He kneeled on the ground and touched the imprint of the horses' shoes on the muddy dirt. Meanwhile, Charlie went looking into the wagon to see if he left anything, event if she doubted it. And to her surprise, he did. Her crossbow was here, with a pack of her arrows. Some food too and a cask of water. What the hell was Monroe doing? Leaving those things behind. She took some dried beef and ate it without preamble. Food was heaven. She hailed the bounty hunter who raised his head in question. She threw him some beef too.

Adam looked at it for quite a while, and when Charlie jumped down from the cart, he rose to his feet, his face dead serious, and said, "What exactly is your relationship with Monroe?"

"I thought I made it pretty clear that wasn't any of your damn business," she replied.

"At first, I thought you were an ex-lover. Don't look at me like that. The man is a well-known womanizer."

"He's twice my age," Charlie said, her features distorting in disgust.

"That's not really relevant in this world, you know. And I don't even think it was in the former world either. But anyway, that's what I thought at first. Until I saw the mark on your arm."

Charlie unconsciously touched her inner wrist. Where she had been branded like cattle. Branded with his mark.

"So then I thought, she used to work for him. A soldier probably. And maybe when he dropped the bomb on his own city, just maybe you had family there. And that you lost them because of him. That would make anyone hellbent on taking revenge."

Little did Adam know how close he was to the truth.

"But that didn't add up," he continued, not letting her talk, "Especially when I overheard your little conversation today in the swimming pool. You know him, personally. And he knows you. And now, even though it's pretty obvious you want nothing more than to put a bullet in his brain, he leaves your crossbow on the wagon you're sure to come across? Call me crazy, but that's pretty suspicious. So I ask you again, Charlie, what exactly is your relationship with Sebastian Monroe?"

Charlie turned her head away. She couldn't answer him. She had no idea herself why Monroe would leave her stuff behind. At least none that she was willing to share with a stranger.

"The only thing you need to know about me and Monroe," she finally said, "is this, that I want him dead. And that I will stop at nothing until he's crawling at my feet, three arrows piercing his chest. I think that sums up our relationship pretty well, don't you think?"

* * *

Well, what _did _you think?

And please excuse my poor English, it's not my native language.

See you soon.


	2. Chapter 2 - Wash Away Your Sins

Thank you guys for all your kind words and your support! I didn't expect that much positive reviews and it feels really great to know that my story is appreciated.

As you can see, I was really quick on the update. Hope you like it :)

* * *

**The Chase **

**Chapter 2 - Wash Away Your Sins**

* * *

In the end, they had gone west. Apparently, Adam was a good tracker and when he said something about horse footprints being a little deeper when a man was on its back, she trusted his word on that. She didn't know if she should, but she did.

When she was all but passing out from exhaustion, Adam called for a break. She had tried to protest, to no avail. The bounty hunter was really stubborn and he refused to move until she had slept a little. He had even insisted on taking first watch. She would have thought he was a saint if she hadn't caught him looking at her cleavage back at the swimming pool when he was patching her up.

Strangely so, she slept like a baby. When she woke up, the sun was in the middle of the sky, shining its bright midday light. Her blue eyes settled on the bounty hunter, he was looking back at her, polishing some knife he must have had on him when Monroe escaped. She raised an eyebrow. He smiled. She sneered.

Like always, he couldn't resist opening his mouth, "Sleep well?"

"It's..."

"Let me guess? None of my business?"

Was he making fun of her?

"I was gonna say, it's your turn to rest. I'll wake you up in two hours."

"You're such a ray of sunshine, you know that?"

She stared at him. Really hard.

"Fine. Please don't murder me in my sleep."

He laid himself of the soft ground and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, she could hear his breathing deepening. She guessed he was pretty tired too.

Having nothing else to do, she observed him for quite some time. He was really handsome, with his perfect face and his perfect hair. How he managed to look like that in the wild was beyond her. But she didn't like him. For starters, he was pretty stupid for a professional and he kept trying to get her to open up, and she didn't like that either. But, above all, he was the reason Monroe was still alive. She had him in her sights, her arrow ready to shoot straight in his heart. She could almost taste revenge on her lips. But it had been over in a millisecond. She had let that arrow loose just to see it embed itself in the post behind Monroe. Just because of that guy.

Yeah, that was reason enough for her eternal dislike.

Charlie couldn't say that she had been obsessed with killing Monroe while traveling on her own. She hadn't even been looking for him until that bartender mentioned the former general. To say that the guy had been in the militia was a mood killer was a euphemism. Not that she had planned to stay with him regardless. When she had seen the look of pride in his eyes, like they shared some secret just because they had the same tattoo on their arm, she had wanted to scream at his face.

Instead, she had played the role of the loyal soldier and had asked him where Monroe was, like she just wanted to pay him her respect.

Right. More like the respect of an arrow in his head instead of his back.

No, her many months away from her family had been filled with one night stands, alcohol and haunting thoughts of that fateful night where she had been standing right behind that glass door, looking at the screens with horror seizing her heart and a sense of uselessness freezing her whole body. And of seeing her dad bleeding on the ground. And of Danny getting multiple shots in his chest by the snipers on the choppers.

She put her palms on each side of her head, trying to make all the images stop spinning around in her mind. She needed something to do something or she'd go crazy, right here, right now. Just like her mom...

She threw a look at Adam who was still asleep, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep. For a bounty hunter, he wasn't very discreet.

Charlie rose silently and placed her crossbow on her back. She wouldn't go far. Just to see if she could find somewhere to bath a little. She stank. Two days without a shower were not helping.

She circled around their camp, going a little farther away each time.

For a long time, there was nothing. Until finally she heard the sound of water flowing. It was more of a stream than a river, but it'd do for her purposes. She drank a lot, quenching a thirst she didn't even know she had. Looking around, the woods were seemingly empty, except for some birds chirping. It was the perfect place.

Charlie took off her weapons, then, delicately, her clothes. She minded her shoulder, still hurting a little. She kept her underwear. You just never knew.

She entered the cold water, until she was waist-deep. The current wasn't very strong. It was fresh and it felt like it was purifying her somehow. She rubbed her skin as best she could. Without soap, she wouldn't smell good, but at least she wouldn't smell like dirt and piss anymore. She watered her hair and washed her face.

Suddenly, all her senses went on high alert. Somebody was here.

"Well well well," a dark-haired man purred while appearing from behind a tree, "what do we have here?"

He was really grubby-looking, his clothes torn and dirty. But he had a rifle in his hands. While her crossbow was exactly where she had left it, right on the bank atop her bundle of clothes. How could she be so stupid! Miles would kill her if he ever found out.

Another man arrived, holding a bow with an arrow pointed directly at her. He was younger, but no less dirty. And she didn't see any kindness in his eyes either.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a third man appear. He was obviously the leader, judging by the way he held himself with confidence. He had greasy hair and he was dirtier than any of them. He also had a rifle on his back and a sword fastened at his belt, but he didn't need them with his two men watching his back. He casually walked until he was right before her.

Charlie's mind went on full panicking mode. She didn't stand a chance.

"A big fish," he grinned. The look of hunger in his eyes chilled her bones, "a big fish waiting to be caught."

"And a pretty one at that," said rifle guy.

"Let's have her for dinner then."

But before any of them moved, something incredible happened. A dark silhouette slipped behind the man with the rifle, brutally seized his arm and forced him to shoot at the group leader, who dropped like a fly in front of Charlie.

She had just enough time to register Monroe's face that he took another shot at the younger man, right in his forehead. Then, he slit his captive's throat with an extremely sharp knife. Blood blossomed on the man's neck and he cried out, holding it like he might stop it from pouring out. His rifle hit the ground.

"Help," he begged Charlie with a strangled voice, his eyes wide open with fear.

He fell. And stopped breathing.

All of this, three men dead, and it hadn't taken him more than a minute.

Monroe looked at her, silent. She couldn't even begin to form a thought. Until her survival instinct kicked in. But her eyes betrayed her when she glanced at the dead man's rifle, a few meters from her. Monroe beat her to it.

"Don't even think about it, Charlotte," he said.

* * *

And they meet!

I'm trying to keep this story as believable as I can, and the characters as canon as can be, so please bear with me. I know the girl being rescued from evil rapists by her enemy is kind of cliché but it's all part of the big picture, trust me.

I hope my descriptions were okay, I'm much better at dialogues!

See you soon.


	3. Chapter 3 - Even Monsters Have Feelings

Whoa, one chapter a day, I'm really proud of myself! However, don't expect the next one to be this quick to update. I have a big essay coming up that I have to do for October 15th and it will take most of my time this week.

Patience is a virtue!

* * *

**The Chase**

**Chapter 3 - Even Monsters Have Feelings**

* * *

"Don't even think about it, Charlotte," Monroe said, picking up the rifle from the ground.

There went her only means of defense.

Neither of them said anything else for a while. Charlie was nearly naked; still half immersed in water and her bra probably wasn't covering much. But Monroe's eyes didn't waver from her own and she didn't try to hide, she wasn't a little girl anymore. There was something in his eyes, a million thoughts that she couldn't even begin to decipher.

Finally, she was the one who broke the silence, "What are you doing here?"

He laughed a little; it was strange seeing him laugh, "I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked first."

"Are we playing this game?"

But suddenly, it all became clear, "You never took the horse."

_"Horse imprints, my ass," _she thought in anger. She was going to kill that shitty bounty hunter.

He didn't look impressed, "First rule of survival, if you're the prey, become the predator."

That he was. The ultimate predator.

Charlie continued on her line of thought, "You made both horses go and you hid, waiting for us to arrive so you could follow us instead of us following you."

Why hadn't she thought of that? That was brilliant strategy.

Monroe shrugged, "You were never gonna stop chasing me. What use was fleeing when you would've caught up with me sooner or later? Besides, I'm no coward."

"Aren't you though?" She taunted him.

His eyes turned into blue steel, "Careful, Charlotte, I think I already told you to watch that mouth."

"What was your plan then?" she ignored him, "Kill us both in our sleep?"

"Him, almost certainly. You?" He seemed to hesitate before continuing, "No."

"Getting sentimental, are you?"

"I made a promise to your mother that I'd protect you. You might think whatever you want of me, but I keep my promises."

To her mom? What the hell was he talking about? Then, it hit her. Charlie thought back to the tower, when Monroe had magically appeared with a gun to shoot the man who was about to end her. Just before her mother arrived. She had never questioned it, but it made sense now. Once again, Rachel had put her children's safety before her own hatred for the man who had kept her prisoner for almost ten years.

"Well, I don't need your protection," she felt like a child saying that, but she meant it. The last thing she needed was her target trying to protect her. How twisted was that?

Monroe's chin indicated the three men lying on the ground, "Clearly, you do."

"That was... Unexpected."

"Danger always is."

"Why did you follow me? Adam was sleeping, probably still is. You could've just killed him and be done with it."

"But then, where would you be, Charlotte? Getting raped? Would you have preferred I'd let you fend for yourself?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Clearly, you have never been raped before or you wouldn't say that."

"And you have?" she mocked him.

"I've been beaten to death, made prisoner and shot several times, but I think I'd still take that over rape."

"Like _you_ never raped anyone," Charlie snapped angrily.

This time, she actually shivered from the look of pure rage Monroe threw her.

"You're playing with fire, Charlotte, try not to get burned."

"Stop acting nice, Monroe, you and I both know you're a monster. So stop pretending otherwise."

Strangely, this seemed to calm him, "I never said I wasn't. I told your mother I'd own up to my mistakes, and I am. But even monsters have feelings. I know you'd prefer it wasn't the case, it would make killing me way easier, wouldn't it?"

"Believe me, I don't need to diabolize you in order to kill you."

"That I believe," he said with a small smile.

They fell silent once again. Charlie's mind was whirling. How far would he take his promise, she asked herself. Could she use it to her advantage? And if she did, what did that make her?

She took a step forward. Monroe immediately directed the barrel of the rifle at her shoulder. His hands weren't shaking one bit.

"Wrong move," he warned, "I may be bound not to kill you, but I won't hesitate to shoot you in the arm."

She stopped. Because she believed him.

"So now what?" she asked.

"Now I walk away, and you go back to your Ken."

Was that supposed to be a joke? Who was Ken? Monroe must have seen the look of confusion on her face because he sighed, "I forget how young you are. Never mind, go back to that bounty hunter of yours. He's not very good at his job, but at least he'll keep you safe."

Again, words like protecting and keeping her safe. She gritted her teeth, "You know this changes nothing, I'll just continue pursuing you."

"Maybe I'm counting on it, kid," and the bastard actually winked at her.

Charlie was about to throw some nasty comeback at him, but he had already retreated behind the trees as swiftly as he had appeared. A second later, he was nowhere to be seen. She didn't bother going after him. She wouldn't go far in her underwear and he was too fast.

No, she needed to regroup and think. Think really hard.

* * *

When she returned to the camp, Adam was awake. As soon as he saw her, he yelled, "Where the hell have you been! Do you even know the meaning of keeping watch?"

"Hold down your horses," Charlie said, while thrusting a rifle in his hands, "I was taking care of some things. And I got us some weapons."

She had taken the leader's sword as well; it was resting safely at her waist.

The bounty hunter made a frustrated sound, "Do I even want to ask?"

"Some things you just don't need to know, for your own safety."

"For my own safety?" he nearly chocked, "Have you looked at yourself? If anyone is in need of protection, it's you!"

She was on his throat with a knife in a heartbeat. "I don't need no one's protection, are we clear? The only reason I'm even with you is to take down Monroe."

He looked down at her, not with fear, if anything, it felt like he was pitying her. "What kind of atrocious things have you been through that turned you into this?"

She lashed out, "Stop trying to understand me! I'm not some problem you can fix, and I'm not looking to make friends. Friends get killed."

Like Maggie. Like Nora. The pain was suffocating. She felt the tears threatening to fall from her eyes, but she swallowed them, just like she swallowed all of her suffering. Tears didn't do shit. She stepped away from Adam.

"Now, do you still want to kill Monroe or not? Because I have a plan."

* * *

Lots of dialogues here. But don't worry, action will take place in the next chapter. I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I felt like it was a good way to end it, no? ;)

I hope Monroe and Charlie's encounter didn't disappoint... Since Charlie hates him, it will take time (and lots of drama) before she can ever trust him. But we'll get there eventually.

Now, about Adam (I think that's his real name in the show), I'm not trying to make him look incompetent (okay, maybe he is a little), but this story is in Charlie's POV and this is how she sees him. I actually like the guy, even if I do enjoy making fun of him.

Wish me luck on my essay :) !


	4. Chapter 4 - A Drink To Your Health

So... I'm back again... Strangely, my hands seem to prefer typing this story than typing my essay (although it _should_ be easier seeing it's in my own language...).

But anyway, what make one's misery makes one's happiness, or something like that, right?

On with the story then, I'll monologue later.

* * *

**The Chase **

**Chapter 4 - A Drink To Your Health**

* * *

"Leave me alone!" Charlie yelled at Adam's face, "You fuckin' psycho!"

They were in an inn, somewhere in the Plains Nation. The village was small and poor, and it had few distractions: booze, gambling and prostitutes mostly. Not unlike the town of New Vegas where she had found Monroe in a free fight combat a few days before. The inn was quite shabby, it smelled like perspiration and vomit, mixed with alcohol breath and some undistinguishable aroma that came from the kitchen and that they had the audacity of calling food.

There were at least twenty people. Two waitresses that suffered in silence their clients' advances. A group of musicians that played some classical rock song in the background. And men drinking, lots of men drinking.

The bartender was old, white-haired old, with a belly that obviously didn't enjoy being restricted by pants and he squinted at anyone who was talking to him directly. Plus, his prices were ridiculously high. But people paid anyway, so why would he bother reducing them? Good alcohol came in short supplies nowadays.

So here they were, at the bar. Charlie was sitting on a stool, facing the room, well, facing Adam who was actually standing up, trying to intimidate her with all his height.

"Listen, girl," the bounty hunter spat at her, "you're really starting to get on my nerves! I'm only trying to help here!"

"For the millionth time, I don't need your help! I told you to get the hell away from me and I meant it!"

"Is something wrong here?" intervened a tall guy, in his mid-thirties and with a scar on his left eye. He had a British accent. He placed a hand on Adam's shoulder.

Their little spar had attracted quite the attention. All the men had interrupted their games to look with curiosity at what looked like a lovers' quarrel.

Adam turned angrily to the man and said, "Back the fuck off, you moron, it's none of your business!"

Wrong answer. The four men who were playing cards at the scarred man's table got up with a scraping of chairs. The music immediately stopped playing and the room turned dead silent. Adam must have sensed the shift in the mood because his face became suddenly unsure.

"I think you need to leave, pal," said the British guy with a threatening tone.

The four men who were advancing towards them seemed no less threatening.

"You don't understand," Adam tried to justify himself, "It's her! She's trying to make me look like the bad guy here. But I'm not. I'm a bounty hunter."

"A bounty hunter who tried to use his status to make a pass at me," explained Charlie in a calm voice, "and when I refused he got angry."

"That —" Adam stuttered, "That's not true! She's lying!"

"Come on now, don't make a fuss," her savior warned him, "Either you go out quietly or we make you go out. And trust me, you won't like that."

Adam looked at him, then at Charlie, then at the crowd who didn't seem to want to miss any details of the scene unraveling before them. Their eyes screamed for a fight. Adam's shoulders lowered in resignation.

"Fine," he said, "I'll leave. But you and I aren't over," he added to Charlie's attention.

When the bounty hunter left the room, the music resumed playing, and so did the men.

"My name's Oliver by the way,' the British man informed her.

He had the most startling green eyes. Too bad his left one was partly shut because of the scar. But he wasn't ugly, he wasn't ugly at all.

"Mine's Sarah," Charlie said with a huge smile, "Nice to meet you."

"Same here. Now, how would you fancy a drink at my table, Sarah?" Oliver asked with a smile of his own.

* * *

By the time she had her fourth drink of the evening, Charlie Matheson could admit, at least to herself, that she was completely drunk. She had removed her leather jacket and her weapons, leaving her in her gray tank top. She still had some red dots on her shoulder, courtesy of the rock salt, but it didn't hurt anymore.

She was laughing, really laughing, only she didn't remember why. Oliver was at her side, laughing too, looking at her. It felt good; to just let go, and forget, forget about everything.

They were playing cards. But the figures were getting blurrier by the minute. Sometimes, she even forgot which game they were playing. So she just did whatever. And they laughed harder. She didn't care.

Then, Oliver started to touch her. Small touches at first. A caress on her hand. He would take her arm to help her pour her drink. Progressively, he got closer. He would lean closer to her ear to whisper some hushed words that she didn't even understand. He put his hand on her waist, pulling her to him. She let him.

"What do you say we go back to my room," he finally murmured, "I've got a double bed upstairs just waiting for us."

Her head was reeling. She tried her best to keep her composure, but it was hard with all the alcohol in her blood.

"Sorry," Charlie managed to say, "I'm not that kinda of girl."

"Come on, lass. Don't play coy."

Oliver got up, half-dragging her with him. His "mates" cheered them on. She tried to get out of his grasp.

"No!" she protested, but her voice was weak and she could barely stand up on her own.

"You've been teasin' me all night, you can't back —" a sword standing dangerously close to his throat cut him off abruptly.

"I think the lady said no," Monroe said. He was standing just in front of them and it looked like he had taken a bath since the last time she saw him. Had he always looked so nice? Shit, that was the alcohol talking.

"Who are you?" Oliver asked, "Her father?"

That's gotta hurt, Charlie thought with a smile. But her mocking of Monroe was interrupted when he took a hold of her arm and pulled her to him. She was sick of people pushing her around like some ragdoll. Scratch that. She was sick, period. Because there was no way in hell she was actually thinking about how good Sebastian Monroe smelled, and least of all about how fit he was under her palms.

Could she vomit now?

"No," Monroe said just above her. He had such a smooth voice... Damn it, she did it again! "But I can be the man who kills you if you want."

He looked so dangerous right now, than even Oliver took a step back.

"Fine, fine, mate," he said, holding his hands up, "She's not worth the trouble anyway."

Even in her drunken state, Charlie could see the fear in his eyes. Just like the man by the river before he died. Did Monroe always inspire such sentiment in people? And if so, why hadn't she ever felt it in his presence?

"Monroe?" she let out in a whisper.

"You really are a pain in the ass," was Monroe's reply, "Now, come on. Let's get out of here."

"Wait," Charlie stopped him, "my stuff."

Monroe sighed before he went to retrieve it from the table she had previously sat on. Everybody looked at him with caution, barely moving a finger. He still had his sword drawn out. He put the jacket on her. His hands were warm, warmer than she would have expected from a cold-blooded killer.

"Now, let's go before it gets ugly."

He still supported her on their way outside, putting his arm around her. They used the back door, just in case. Once they were out in the night, Charlie stopped him again.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," she said, leaning on a wall.

"Just what I needed to hear..."

But suddenly, she straightened up and yelled, "Adam, now!"

* * *

Did you see that coming? Okay, it should have been pretty obvious, since I ended last chapter on "I have a plan". But I tried to remain as circumspect as I could, so as not to tip you off on Charlie's plan.

I know it's quite cruel on her part to use Monroe's will to protect her as a means to his destruction. But I thought that's just what she would do in this situation. Charlie has stopped being a child a long time ago. And women use their wits and their charm to get what they want. Too bad what she wants is Monroe dead. Or does she ;) ?

Just to clarify something, it is a Bass and Charlie's story. Adam is here for my own enjoyment, and because he was on the TV show, I can't just make him disappear into thin air.

One last thing, you guys are really the best! I can't believe how awesome you all are for supporting me in this story! A special thanks to... well everyone! I'll try to answer all of your reviews when I have a little more time. For those who say my story reminds them of the TV show, can I just kiss you right now? Apart from season 1 that was crap (the first part anyway, let's be honest), this TV show is actually becoming what it should have been in the first place: revolutionary!

See you soon.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Path To Redemption

Another short chapter. Sorry about that, but time is the essence of life, well of my life, if I want to give back my essay in time...

* * *

**The Chase **

**Chapter 5 - The Path To Redemption**

* * *

Monroe only groaned when the bullet hit his right shoulder blade, bending a little because of the blow. The gunshot seemed to resonate in the night, like some ominous bell. Charlie had taken her weapon from him the moment she had yelled the signal to Adam, who was hidden on some roof on the other side of the back alley. She had an arrow hooked in her crossbow before he could even blink.

She was unsteady on her feet. The drinking during her little act hadn't been fake. But she was so close to him that it didn't matter anyway.

It was dark but she saw it, the flash of betrayal in his eyes. It didn't last long, but it was there. Somehow she felt a little guilty. Which was crazy because all of this had been part of her plan. And it had worked out to perfection. Lure Monroe out by playing the damsel in distress, then weaken him so she could take him out all by herself.

So what was she waiting for? She was the one who had told Adam not to hesitate, that hesitation got you killed.

But Monroe hadn't moved a finger. His face was twisted in pain from the wound he had just received, her arrow was aimed at his heart, but he didn't move.

"I think your bounty hunter is even more incompetent than I thought, he missed his shot," Monroe finally said, half joking.

How could he laugh in this situation?

"I meant for him to do that," she replied.

"I see," were his only words. But they held something else in them: understanding, acceptance and most of all sadness. A sadness so deep it gripped her heart.

"Do it," he said in a calm voice.

Had she heard him right?

"You deserve it," Charlie told him. Why was she trying to justify her actions? Had she ingested that much alcohol that she couldn't even think straight?

"I do," he agreed, "and I'd rather it was you who did it than somebody else, you know?"

No. No, she didn't know. How could he be so serene on the brink of death?

"I'm gonna do it!" Even to her ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Then do it, Charlotte. Like you said, put me out of my misery. No one's stopping you."

Only herself. Herself and her stupid, stupid feelings. Because it felt wrong somehow. She was so close. She was about to take down her nemesis, the man who was responsible for her father and her brother's deaths, the one responsible for all her pain and suffering, but she couldn't do it, she couldn't pull the trigger.

"I —" Charlie began to say.

"Well, actually, _I _am stopping her," somebody interrupted them. They both turned their heads at the same time. It was a woman. Petite, blond and pretty. She had just appeared in the alley with at least ten men in uniforms gathered around her, armed to the teeth. "Would you be so kind as to lower that weapon, dear? We don't want any accident, do we?"

She had a patronizing tone that Charlie hated on the spot.

"To my knowledge, murder is no accident."

"If you were going to murder him, child, you would have done so the minute you had the chance. Now put down your weapon before anybody gets hurt."

"And who are you to give me orders?" she asked with a hint of challenge.

"My name is Evelyn Grace, I work for the US government and this man is now under my custody."

* * *

"It kinda feels like déjà-vu, right?" Monroe remarked.

"Shut up," Charlie replied shortly.

He was right though. They weren't in a swimming pool this time but in a large room in some facility outside the village. They were tied up to the wall just like before, a few meters from each other. Except now it was with chains instead of rope. No hope of escaping there.

"I don't really feel like shutting up."

"Talk in you head, maybe that'll help."

Monroe smiled, "Oh, Charlotte, I'm really beginning to enjoy our little chats. You're much funnier when you can't kill me."

"And you're much funnier when you're not talking. Don't they know how to use tape in here? Hello?" she called, "Anybody? Could you please make him shut up? He's ruining my sleep."

But it was no use. Because whatever guards were guarding the door didn't deign to answer.

Monroe moved a little, his chains rattling.

"Ouch," he said with a grimace, "The least they could do is heal my shoulder if they want to keep me alive. I think the bullet's still in there."

"Serves you right."

"That's not very kind of you," he joked.

"I'm not a very kind person."

Monroe's blue eyes turned serious, "Yes, yes you _are._"

"A very kind person would have killed you," she argued, "Not chicken out like some rookie. If only to save all the people you're gonna kill next."

"Killing never brought me any pleasure, you know," Monroe said, his eyes sad again. She hated that, he had no right to be sad. "I just did what needed to be done."

"I'm sure that's what you tell yourself at night."

There was a moment of silence. Charlie was cursing in her mind, mostly at herself for being an idiot and at alcohol because she had the worst hangover ever. Right now, she was pretty much pissed at everything and everyone.

"Why is it you're so angry at me?"

"Oh, jeez, I don't know. Maybe 'cause you killed my dad and my brother?" she sneered.

"For the record, Tom Neville killed your dad. As for your brother, well that was a very unfortunate accident. I never meant for your family to get hurt. In fact, I specifically ordered my soldiers not to hurt any of you."

"What about the time you threatened to kill us so my mom could build you that amplifier thing?"

"Please, like you were in any real danger. Your mom would never have let that happen. She's quite predicable in that aspect. I should know, I've spent nearly ten years in her lovely company," he didn't sugarcoat the sarcasm.

"Another thing to add to my "Why I hate Sebastian Monroe" list."

"Did you know that it was actually Miles who took your mother? And that she went on her own free will. Well, kind of."

Charlie turned to him, "You're lying."

"Kid, I'm many things. But I'm no liar."

She pondered on his words. It was true. He had never lied to her. And what purpose would it serve to lie to her now?

"I'll just have to ask him myself for the truth then," she finally said, then added, "I know that Miles has done many reprehensible things in the past, but it's over, he has redeemed himself since."

"What about me, Charlotte?" Monroe asked, "Don't I have the right to redeem myself as well?"

For once, she had nothing to say.

* * *

I hope the intervention of the US government didn't feel too much like _Deus ex machina_... Obviously, I needed something to interrupt Charlie in her attempted killing. The truth is, I don't actually have a plan for my future chapters. I just sort of write them as I feel they should play out given the characters and their surroundings (like when Charlie said she had a plan to kill Monroe, I just thought "Damn, now I have to find a good plan!" and I spent the night thinking about it). The plot constructs itself around that. I think that the US government is the main enemy for this season, so I used it to my own benefit, to this story's benefit anyway.

So... Monroe wants to die. What do you think about that? Personally, when I saw how haunted his eyes were during that scene in the swimming pool, I thought that this man was through with life, well maybe not through, just that this is the kind of man who accepts death when it comes to him. He has lost everything, his army, his power, his family (long ago but still), his brother (Miles), his childhood love (Emma what's her name), he doesn't know where his son is... Everything he has done, at least in the beginning, was to protect people. And he has let them down in the most horrible way... I think Charlie was wrong, this is a man torn up by guilt. But that's just my opinion. Do you think Charlie can be his redemption, just like she was Miles'? Or is he beyond forgiveness? Food for thought.

Haha, that's a lot of self-reflection on my part!

On to the good stuff, you'll see a lot more of Bass/Charlie now they are forced to spend some time together.

Spoilers ahead

It's about episode 3 so everyone who hasn't seen it yet, please don't look.

Why, oh why does Charlie and Bass have only 2 minutes in this episode? And don't you think it's kind of weird how Charlie suddenly isn't interested in killing Monroe anymore? I mean, one moment, she's doing her best to track him and kill him. Then he says "I have something to show you" and she's like "Ok, I'll bite", turning her back to him and everything. I know that she's worried about her mom but come on! Doesn't seem very credible to me... But they still have great chemistry!

See you soon.

PS: I nearly forgot to thank you guys for all your reviews. You're amazing, amazing readers. So thank you! One person asked me if there was going to be any Bass's POV in this story. I can't really say for now. It's not that I can't do it. It just that I'm not sure I want to do it. Does that make sense?

(In case you haven't noticed, I talk a lot...)


	6. Chapter 6 - The Art Of Deception

Me again! With a long chapter this time ;)

* * *

**The Chase **

**Chapter 6 - The Art Of Deception**

* * *

Charlie was alone in the cell. Two men had taken Monroe away a few hours ago to god knew where – but her best guess was that they were tending to his bullet wound somewhere inside the building.

She had tried yanking on her chains a thousand times, but they didn't bulge a millimeter. Of course, they had stripped her of anything sharp so she couldn't try picking on the shackles' lock. Apart from the guards, no one had come in the room. Not even to feed her, or to give her some water. Though she was dying for some water right now, she wasn't about to beg. Thankfully, her hangover was mostly gone.

She checked her surroundings. It had no windows, no nothing. Just one door and four walls. How was she supposed to get out of here?

Since she had nothing else better to do, Charlie's mind started drifting back to the enigma that was Sebastian Monroe. It was strange. A few days before, she wouldn't have hesitated to kill him in a heartbeat. He was a monster. A man who had ruled an entire militia, creating a reign of terror in his territory. A man who had wrecked chaos on her entire family.

But now things were a little bit more complicated. For starters, he had saved her three times – well technically only twice, if you didn't count the faked rescue from that Oliver guy. But still, he seemed to genuinely not want to hurt her, supposedly because of some promise he had made to her mom. Plus she had seen his eyes last night. It was the look of a man truly lost. Exactly like her uncle Miles had been when she first met him in Chicago.

So which one was real? The killer or the repented? Obviously he hadn't stopped being the former, but his ferocity had toned down a little. It lacked the dementia and paranoia she had witnessed on her first encounter with General Monroe. Maybe it was the loss of power. Power corrupted. Miles was proof of that. He too had done terrible things in the name of the greater good.

And after all, she was no stranger to killing as well...

It was true that Miles and Monroe had started the Republic with the best of intentions, and that along the way, things had gone a little insane – mostly Monroe himself actually. But it was an insane world they were living in.

That didn't justify any of his actions of course. But maybe she could at least give him the benefit of the doubt that he had had his own twisted reasons for acting the way he did, and that he truly thought he was protecting the people at the time. In a megalomaniac dictator kinda way.

Where did that left them, she had no idea. One thing was certain, she was unable to kill him. She could try lying to herself, blame it on the alcohol. But she knew the truth deep down. Did that mean she forgave him? No, she still had some resentment towards him, that hadn't disappeared. But she didn't hate him. As much as she wanted to, she didn't. Not truly. Some part of her even understood him a little.

She blocked out the forbidden thoughts that emerged about his smell and the way he felt, because that led to very dangerous grounds. Not being able to kill him was one thing, being attracted to him was another world altogether. _That_ she could blame on her fuzzy mind.

_Think about that Evelyn Grace woman._ Yes, that was safer. Who was she anyway? And what was that US government she was babbling about? She remembered Adam saying something about it. About how the bounty on Monroe's head had been issued by them. What did they want with him? Alive at that? What was their angle? So many questions and no answer. She was sick of it. First the electricity, now this.

The door brusquely opened.

The same two guards came in. They were both armed with guns, in beige uniforms with the American flag sewed on their sleeves. Their faces didn't give anything away. They were the perfect pictures of loyal soldiers.

"About time," Charlie said, "I was getting bored."

"You're coming with us," one of the soldier stated, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll shut your mouth along the way."

"Oh, don't you wanna hear all the lovely things I have to say about you and your buddy?"

He smacked her on the cheek.

"Okay, guess not."

* * *

They escorted Charlie around the corridors, one soldier before her and one behind. She was still handcuffed but they had the courtesy of locking her hands in front. Finally they stopped before some door. The guard knocked then let himself in. The one behind her pushed Charlie inside as well.

It was another room like the one she had just left, only bigger. Monroe was here, sitting on a chair with his hands behind his back. His torso was bare and his shoulder bandaged. But he was also bleeding from the several blows he had obviously just received from a giant bald man in dark clothes who stood just beside him.

Monroe watched her as she came in, his eyes dark and swollen. It looked like he was in a bad shape.

"Good of you to join the party, my dear," Evelyn Grace said. She was sitting on another chair on the side, her legs crossed.

The woman was wearing a white, tight suit and red stilettos. Her blond hair reached her shoulders in soft waves. She was even wearing make-up. She could not be more than 35. Her mouth was smiling but her eyes were hard.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Charlie replied defiantly.

She didn't miss the hint of a smirk on Monroe's lips either.

Evelyn got up then put the chair in front of the former general. "Have a seat then."

The soldier made her sit up with rough hands. "You're so kind," Charlie said, "When is the tea coming up?"

"You've got spunk, girl, I'll give you that," the woman's smile was phony. "Leave us," she added to the two soldiers. They went out without a word, shutting the door behind them.

Charlie scanned Monroe's wounds. They didn't look so terrible from up close. Shallow cuts and bruises mostly. He winked at her reassuringly. She scoffed.

"Now," Evelyn continued, circling creepily around Charlie, "I have some trouble making this man talk, I was hoping you could help me with that."

"You obviously don't know him – or me, if you think I am the one who can make him talk."

"Actually, sweetheart, you don't really need to do anything."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked. But the big bald man had already struck her in the gut. She tried to regain her breathing with difficulty. Okay, now she got what the woman meant.

"What about now, Monroe?" Evelyn asked, "Do you feel like sharing?"

Monroe looked at her, not blinking, "What was your question again?"

The woman bristled, annoyed, "How did you put the power back on?"

Monroe took a moment, like he was thinking really hard, "Hmm sorry, I seem to have some sudden memory loss. Can't remember a thing about that night."

"Ron, again!"

This time, the blow was on her face. Charlie nearly toppled over. Her nose hurt like hell and she felt blood on her lips. People really liked hitting her today.

"Do you really think beating up a girl in front of me is gonna change anything?" Monroe asked, "I barely even know her. You can kill her for all I care."

Charlie glared at him.

"Really?" said the blond, "You see, I happen to know that this is a lie. And that this girl right here is Miles Matheson's niece. Your former right hand. Ring any bell?"

They both looked at her with astonishment. How did she know that?

"I have my sources. Now Sebastian, do you really want to ruin this pretty girl's face? Because I can go on and on."

"Fine," Monroe said, gritting his teeth, "what do you want to know?"

"The power," Evelyn repeated, "how do you turn it back on?"

"You can't. Your man made sure of that."

"My man?"

"Randall," he specified, "he is your man, right?"

"Ah, I see. Yes, indeed. Randall used to work for us. He was supposed to infiltrate your army. But what does he have to do with anything?"

For once, Monroe seemed surprised, "You mean, he wasn't acting on your orders when he dropped the bombs?"

Evelyn's face turned suspicious, "_You_'re the one who dropped the bombs. I don't understand."

"Maybe you're the one who should talk to your superiors then."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You're lying. And even if I wanted to, they're in Guantanamo Bay, it'll take days for me to reach them."

Monroe smirked, "That's all I wanted to hear, thank you."

"Wha –" Evelyn started to say, but she stopped talking when Monroe suddenly busted up from his chair. He swung a punch at the giant, a really mean one. The man tried to defend himself against the series of insanely fast moves Monroe pulled, but he was ridiculously slow and didn't manage to touch the former general even once.

"Gua –" the blond began to yell, but Charlie got to her before she could finish, charging her with all the force she could manage.

They both fell on the ground. Evelyn struggled like a tigress to get the girl off of her, but her outfit didn't give her a lot of room for maneuver. Charlie rolled on the side then put her handcuffed hands around the woman's neck. She pulled as hard as she could. The blond trashed in all directions, trying to call for help, but her windpipe was being crushed by the metal. Despite her struggle, Charlie didn't let go. Until, finally, Evelyn Grace stopped moving at all.

* * *

That was a really hard chapter to write. Mostly because I feel like my vocabulary is quite limited when it comes to description and action. But I try my best.

Ah, this Sebastian Monroe, he never stop surprising us, does he? But how did he get out of his restraints? You'll see that in next chapter.

It's late (at least in my country) and I'm tired, so not too much talking this time. Just thank you (again and again and again), you're what keeps me writing this story.

See you soon.


	7. Chapter 7 - Fellow Travelers

No, I haven't forgotten you, I just had a crazy schedule this week. And I finished my essay, hurrah me!

* * *

**The Chase **

**Chapter 7 - Fellow Travelers**

* * *

Charlie stared with horror at Evelyn Grace's empty eyes. She had killed people before. But it had never felt so personal. Shooting an arrow was not like killing someone with your bare hands. She sat down with difficulty, pushing the body away. She had a sick feeling in her stomach.

She looked at Monroe, who was searching the bald giant's corpse. Well, she assumed the guy was dead and she didn't really care to know either way. He looked back at her, pocketing a knife at the same time.

"Remind me not to piss you off again," he joked, his chin indicating the woman lying beside her.

She didn't say anything. Her eyes looked down at her bloody hands, the skin on her wrists raw. The hands of a killer. What was she turning into? she asked herself. She would do anything to survive. But at what cost? Was she any better than Monroe?

It seemed a lifetime ago that she cried whenever things went bad.

However, now was not the time to question such things. She had more pressing business to attend to, like getting out of here alive.

Monroe slowly approached her, then extended a hand. His blue eyes were weirdly intense and she felt that this moment was a defining one. Either she took his hand and that meant she accepted his help or she denied it and they were back to square one. She looked at his hand like it held the answer. His knuckles were bruised from his fight. But they were warm hands, strong hands, and they had never hurt her. Not even once.

She placed her smaller one in it. Monroe immediately pulled her up. They were standing really close to each other. Her body only centimeters from his exposed torso. She felt the heat emanating from his skin and it was burning her, even though only their hands were actually touching. She searched his eyes for something, anything, but they were veiled. Whatever he was thinking was hidden in their blue depths.

Monroe raised his other hand to her face, his fingers brushing her swelling cheek. "Sorry about that," he whispered, "I needed the intel."

"That's okay," she heard herself respond, "I can take the beating." She didn't recognize her own voice, it was raspy and low. His nearness was doing strange things to her mind.

"That, you can." He sounded pensive, like she was a puzzle he needed to solve.

They stayed like this, in silence, for what felt like hours but were only seconds. Finally, Monroe broke the spell when he remarked, "They're gonna wonder what's going on in here. We should move."

"Yeah, you're right."

He unlocked her handcuffs with the key he had apparently found on the bald guy. They hit the ground with a dull sound. Her wrists hurt like crazy but she ignored the pain. "How did you free yourself, anyway?"

Monroe smiled, "I stole a needle from the doc who was stitching up my wound."

Okay, she was impressed. "Do you always have an escape plan?"

"It's in my nature." His words lingered in the room. There was something here, something behind them.

"Now what do we do, then?" she asked. She still didn't trust him, but he was her best shot at survival.

"We take down the guards outside and we get the hell outta here."

It sounded so easy when he said it like that...

* * *

It turned out that it was kind of easy. They knocked out the two guards outside the room, she was extra mean to the one who had hit her, then she followed Monroe who seemed to know exactly which direction to take. They didn't even meet anyone, expect one guard outside whom Monroe killed in one smooth move. It was night-time again. One day had passed since they had been captured. Luckily for them, the facility was in some forest, so it was all the more easier to remain unseen.

Soon, someone would notice the trail of bodies they had left behind, so they ran like hell was on their heels. It was dark but Charlie could distinguish Monroe's shape just before her, and hear his heavy breathing next to hers. He was fast. So fast she could barely keep up with him. But she took whatever strength she had left and used it not to fall behind.

They ran like that for an hour or two, she wasn't sure. She had lost track of time. Then, it started raining. It was good because it would erase their tracks. But it also meant they were getting drenched and they had to slow down. More than one time, she slipped on the muddy earth and only Monroe's support prevented her from falling down.

"We should find shelter," he said, stating the obvious after an other hour of running under the rain, "We can't go on like that."

Charlie snorted at the "we" when the truth was, she was the one who couldn't go on. Monroe's hold on her arm was the only thing that kept her going.

It was only when she was on the verge of fainting, her lungs scorching and her legs shivering, that they found somewhere to keep cover. It was a small wooden cabin, probably used by hunters before the blackout.

They went inside. It was far from cosy. Two square meters, with only a small table and two chairs. But it had a chimney. And it was dry. While Charlie fell on the ground, trying to regain her respiration, Monroe went to work. He broke the chairs in little pieces, and put them in the fireplace. He snooped around in the small kitchen – which consisted of a sink and two cupboards – and found some matches.

A few minutes later, a bright fire was warming up the place.

"Come on," Monroe said, "Come sit next to the fire or you'll catch a cold."

"You're the one who's half naked," she deadpanned. But she obeyed him. She still had goose flesh, but this time it was caused by the warmth of the flames. She sighed with contentment.

"I have an immunity against diseases."

Charlie looked at him, disbelief plain on her face.

"It's true," he insisted, while sitting next to her. "I've never caught a cold in my life."

"Aren't you the lucky one."

"Yeah..." But he didn't sound convinced. It was there again. The deep sadness that she was getting familiar with.

"Aren't they gonna see the smoke from far away?" Charlie asked, changing the subject to safer grounds, ones that didn't involve a vulnerable Monroe.

"With this weather? Very unlikely. Besides, we're not staying. We'll just rest and dry off until it stops raining. Then we go back to running. Plus, we need to find food and water."

"Since when is it 'we', Monroe?"

"Since we happen to have a common enemy. Do I have to remind you of what occurred in the tower? You heard that Grace woman. They called themselves the US government and Randall used to work for them. That means they're the ones responsible for dropping the bombs. Whatever grief lies between us, in my book that's enough cause to team up against them, don't you think? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, that kinda of thing."

"Don't push it, Monroe. I agree with you that this US government is shady and that they may have been involved with releasing the bombs. And I want to know the truth just as much as you do. But we're as far from being friends as it gets. We're just fellow travelers who happen to walk in the same direction for the same purpose, that's it."

"Duly noted."

* * *

I actually wanted to end this chapter later but I liked this end too much ;)

So there was some action between Charlie and Bass in this chapter (albeit a small one I'll admit), are you guys happy? When I told you things would be slow, I wasn't kidding. These two have too much of a bad past to jump each other's bones just because they are SO attracted to each other. I know that's what we'd all like, but that's too much sexual fantasy and less reality. Again, bear with me on this one. I hate implausible stories.

I can't believe how much reviews I'm getting for this story... Thank you so much. I'd never have thought you guys would dig Charlie/Bass as much as I do! But the show is giving us enough great scenes between the two of them to feed my hope that maybe that's were it's going with this two characters. I'm sending a little prayer to the scriptwriters here. Since it seemed we are like-minded (we both predicted that Charlie would get rescued by Monroe from evil rapists after all).

See you soon.


	8. Chapter 8 - Pleasure And Pain

This is a gift for my 100th review :)

Before you ask, it just happened...

* * *

**The Chase**

**Chapter 8 - Pleasure And Pain**

* * *

Charlie was eating ice cream in the kitchen. Her parents were with her, eating ice cream as well. They told her they should eat all of it before it went to waste. The lights were out. Only a few candles burning were giving them light. Danny was sleeping.

She felt safe. With her father and her mother beside her, she had nothing to fear.

The ice cream was chocolate. Her favorite.

She was five.

The scene changed. She was looking at her mother's back as Rachel was walking away from her family.

The scene changed. She was holding her dying father in her arms. He was telling her to look after Danny, the only family she had left.

The scene changed. She was looking down at Maggie, wounded and urging her to leave her behind.

The scene changed. Danny was running in the open field to fire at the choppers. The bullets hit his body four times.

The scene changed. They were in the tower. Nora was hit, calling out for Miles.

The scene changed. She was standing behind the glass wall. Randall was aiming his gun at his own head and killed himself.

The scene changed. She was watching everyone she ever cared about get killed right before her eyes. Again and again and again. Until she was the only one left. Until she was utterly and hopelessly alone in the world.

"Wake up," she faintly heard someone say, "wake up, Charlie."

She opened her eyes, they were blurry with tears. Monroe's face was right above hers. He had her pinned on the ground, holding her wrists gently.

"Wake up," he was saying, his forehead wrinkled with worry, "It's just a dream."

Her heartbeat was frantic and the ache was suffocating.

"I –" she tried to explain. But she couldn't talk.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

She should have told him to fuck off, to get away from her. He was too close for comfort, his torso pressed against hers. But his presence was numbing the pain somehow. It made her think about something else, just like the nights when she drank her sorrows away or when she had meaningless sex with random strangers.

Could she?

It was crazy. It went against everything she had ever believed in. Except she wasn't sure if she still believed in anything anymore.

She looked at him, really looked at him. His curly brown hair, his chiseled face and his deep blue eyes. He seemed to sense the change in the mood because he was quiet, watching her, more like scrutinizing her. He was waiting to see what she would do. If she would dare.

She licked her lips. They were dry from the lack of water and from the lack of something else, the lack of warmth. His eyes drifted to her full lips, his fingers squeezing her hands a little. She felt him tense. His muscles rippled.

Her heartbeat sped up, but now it was for a different reason entirely.

It didn't matter who he was at the moment. That he was a monster, or a psychopath, or twice her age. He was good-looking, his weight on her body felt right, his heat melting into hers in perfect harmony.

She moved a little, grinding against his leg. Pleasure sparked at her center. A low moan escaped her lips. Monroe grimaced. She knew he was holding back, even though he wanted this too. She could feel it. Right between her legs.

"Don't," he warned, holding her in place.

"Why the hell not?" she was looking at him through half-lid eyes. He closed his for a second, evidently waging a war within himself.

"Because you're gonna regret it later."

"It doesn't have to mean anything," she said.

"Sex always means something, Charlotte."

"No, it can just be about two people seeking comfort in each others arms after an extremely tiring day. I just really need it right now. Please." She hated that her voice sounded so pleading.

"Don't tempt me." He was loosing control, she could feel it. His gaze was heated with lust and restrain. It was the sexiest look she had ever seen in her life.

She raised her head to his level, her lips grazing his, "That's exactly what I'm trying to do."

That unraveled him. His mouth descended on hers with a ferocity she matched at every turn, their tongues meeting almost instantly. It felt more like a fight than a kiss. But it was exactly what she wanted. Her hands were pulling violently at his curls. His mouth was trailing a line of fire on her neck. She was moaning in rapture.

It was different than any man she had ever been with. _He_ was different. A perfect balance between tenderness and violence. Even Jason didn't compare, Jason had treated her like she was made of porcelain. Monroe knew what he was doing for sure. Biting her skin then licking it. Barely touching her breast then grasping it.

She was lost in an ocean of pleasure and pain. In his body, his mouth, his hands. She felt alive for the first time in a long time. Maybe it was because it was forbidden. But she just didn't care anymore.

But then, it all stopped.

There was noise outside. The sound of footsteps approaching. They had both frozen, their heads spun toward the door. Someone turned the handle. In a second, they were on their feet, ready to fight. The door opened. A tall man came in.

"Adam?" Charlie asked in surprise, "What the hell are you doing here?"

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Adam said, "you're working with Monroe. It seems like it was only yesterday you were bashing my ears with 'I have to kill Monroe, this is my life's purpose' – oh wait, it _was _yesterday. And now I find you two all cozy-like, sharing a cabin in the woods. Care to explain that?"

"It's complicated," Charlie sighed. Obviously, she left out the part where she almost had sex with the guy...

"I can see that."

"Can we just kill him?" Monroe suggested. His knife was on Adam's throat and he didn't look happy at having been interrupted. Actually, he looked damn right pissed.

"No!" Charlie said, "No one is killing anyone. Listen, Adam, I know Monroe killed your partner. Believe me, I have my own reasons for wanting him dead, and they far outweigh yours. But right now, killing him is out of the question."

"Why?"

"Because I need him," she stated.

Adam looked at her like she was crazy, Monroe smirked. "Not like that!" she shouted in disgust. Never mind that this was exactly what had been on her mind a few minutes ago. "Adam, you have no idea what you're getting into. It's about the power, why it was turned off, about the bombs, about this US government. All this mess is on us and it's up to us to fix it."

"You?" the bounty hunter didn't sound convinced. "But you're only what, 21, 22? How the hell could the blackout have anything to do with you?"

"Actually, it has everything to do with her," Monroe said, "At least, it has to do with her parents."

"What's he talking about, Charlie?"

She didn't know if she should tell him the truth or not. But after all he had done for her, she guessed he deserved it. "My parents were scientists. They're the ones who caused the blackout."

The look of astonishment of Adam's face was priceless. "I know it sounds crazy," she continued, "but it's the truth. They didn't want this to happen. There was a malfunction or something, I'm not sure. Anyway, we were working on a way to get it back on. But this guy, his name was Randall, he double-crossed Monroe and he used us to launch the missiles at Philly and Atlanta."

"So Monroe isn't the one who caused the bombs?"

"Surprise," the former general said sarcastically.

"My head really hurts right now. Could you call back your guard dog for one second and give me some space to process this overload of information?"

Monroe's eyes flashed murder as he pressed the blade even deeper into Adam's skin. "Careful on the name picking, hunter, I'm the one with your life in my hands."

"Monroe!" Charlie cried out. She went to him and put a hand on his forearm. "Stop that, please."

He didn't move, still intent. Damn men and their egos! "Bass!" she finally said. The sound of his own name made him pause. He looked at her then withdrew the knife.

"To me, it looks like _she_'s the one calling the shots here," Adam observed dryly.

The man really had a death wish.

* * *

I know I had this big speech last chapter about keeping it real and I just contradicted myself one day later. But this chapter just came as an evidence, I couldn't have done it any other way. I just hope it doesn't feel too weird or OOC...

I bet a lot of you are really happy right now, and the other lot really frustrated - or both!

And please don't be too angry against Adam, he's just my puppet to do as I please ;)

See you soon.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Lesser Evil

No, I'm not dead, just drowning in work, work, work (and sickness because life isn't fair).

For the record, let it be said that I don't really like this chapter. You've been warned.

* * *

**The Chase**

**Chapter 9 - The Lesser Evil **

* * *

The three of them were traveling through the forest in search of the nearest town which, according to Adam, was situated south-east to their previous location.

After some angry friction back at the cabin, Charlie and Monroe had finally decided to stick with Adam. Charlie had argued that him being a bounty hunter could be a real asset in order for them to get into the US government's camp, but Monroe had countered that he didn't trust him and thus refused to cooperate. At last, she had convinced him by saying that it was either this or she went on her own.

But first, they had agreed that finding a place to stay – preferably with actual beds – food and money was top priority.

To say that Monroe and Adam didn't really hit it off was an understatement. They had argued 90 percent of the time, about everything and anything. From which direction they should take to how many towns had these Patriots invaded, they seemed to have opposite opinions just for the sake of contradicting each other.

At one time, their antagonism even came to blows, because the former general had insisted on setting up false tracks and booby traps – in case they were followed – and Adam had called him a 'fucking paranoiac lunatic'. Naturally, it wasn't well received by Monroe, who had thrown a punch at Adam's face in retaliation. Only Charlie almost getting hit while trying to separate them had broken them off.

And now, to say the least, she was very, very irritated. So much in fact that she had put some distance, walking ahead and not looking back, before she strangled one of them – or both. Fortunately, their pseudo fight had had one good outcome, they had stopped talking altogether and she blessed her lucky star for that.

Of course, she should have known that her lucky star was currently taking a day off, probably the entire year actually, considering she had had nothing but bad luck these past few months.

Hence her moment of peace was interrupted by Monroe's threatening voice.

"Keep your eyes at sea level," he was saying to Adam, "Or I'll poke them out."

"What's it to you? I'm just enjoying a good view."

"You'll definitely enjoy my fist then."

"Are you her father? Is that it?"

Charlie resisted the temptation to turn her head around. She had a pretty good guess what they were talking about – her butt let's be clear – and the unpleasant thought of both Monroe and Adam arguing over her backside was causing her a headache. Plus, it made her feel like a piece of meat.

Before they did anything reckless, she yelled, "If the both of you don't shut up, I'll be the one poking eyes out. And trust me, I won't discriminate."

That did the job. They both went back to their broody silence. Men really were stupid creatures. To think she almost had sex with Monroe! What had she been thinking? Well, of course she _hadn't_ really been thinking, just acting on the moment. But all her great speeches about him being a monster had gone to the garbage can right there. When you slept with monsters, what did that make you?

Obviously, it had been a momentary lapse of judgment on her part and it would never happen again, never mind how good it had felt at the time. She had just agreed to work with the guy, nothing else. It didn't erase all the horrible things he had done. And he was about her Uncle Miles' age for God's sake!

It was better to put this brief, intense moment of sexual attraction out of her mind for good.

* * *

The city was called Garden City, but there were no gardens, only half-abandoned buildings and wild vegetation. People walked the streets, looking grim and underfed, carrying weapons like they expected to use them at any given moment. There was a small market where women purchased food and clothes, with small children running around. But the tension was palpable.

They headed to one specific edifice. A small manor that was in relatively good shape. Two men were guarding its doors but they let Adam in without a word. He was evidently a regular. Monroe and Charlie followed.

The interior was pretty classy for a town such as this one, all dark leather and solid wood. Torches lit up the room in various places, giving it a dim illumination. Some men were smoking cigars and drinking whisky, talking quietly among themselves. Some were playing cards or dice. But it was the complete opposite of the inn where she had tricked Monroe. For one, it actually smelled nice.

Adam went to the counter, greeting some people on the way. Once again, Monroe and Charlie went along. There was another man behind the bar, washing glasses. He was over fifty years old, but clean-shaved and wearing a white shirt tucked in dark pants.

When he saw Adam, he smiled warmly and said, "Been a long time, friend, how're you doing?"

The man put down his rag and they shook hands above the counter.

"Could be better," Adam said – he didn't look at Monroe but Charlie could feel the antipathy directed at the former general –, "Sergei passed away a few days ago."

Charlie assumed he was talking about his late partner. To think his murderer was standing right beside him. Talk about awkwardness…

"I'm saddened to hear that, he was a good fellow – even if I didn't understand half of what he was saying," the bar owner joked.

"You and me both," Adam said with a small smirk.

"Let's drink to his memory then," he suggested, putting two shots of whisky between them, "To Sergei, may he rest in peace."

Adam added, "And may he have lots of scarcely-clad angels watching over him. I know he'd like that."

They toasted to his words.

"Now, how can I help you? Do you need a room?"

Adam pointed out at Monroe and Charlie, "I'll need three rooms. For me and my two companions."

"Nice to meet you," the man said, finally looking at them, "The name is Jimmy Davis, the honorable owner of the Lions' Den."

He was especially eyeing Charlie, grinning broadly. She only nodded in response, not giving back her name. Monroe wasn't even looking at him, he was fixated on Adam with a death glare. Davis' smile lessened, probably feeling the tension.

"Okay," he continued with a more professional tone, "Back to business then. I'm afraid I only have two rooms available at the moment so you'll have to share. I assume the lady will take the single-room? "

"No," Charlie intervened, "I'll share with him." She indicated Monroe. The latter looked at her strangely, probably wondering what was on her mind. But it was pretty evident. If she let Adam and Monroe share a room, they'd kill each other before the end of the night. Even though she didn't trust either of them, she still trusted Monroe more. And she had a feeling Monroe would never let her sleep in the same bed as Adam. So the best way to avoid any complication was this solution.

"No way –," Adam started to say.

"This is not up for discussion," Charlie cut him off. Her eyes told him to shut up or face the consequences, which he did.

"Fine," he gave up. The bounty hunter knew she could be pretty stubborn when she wanted to.

"I'll show you to your rooms, then?" Jimmy Davis half-said, half-asked, his eyes darting between the three of them, probably wanting to be anywhere but here.

* * *

So I added my own twist to Adam oggling Charlie's butt. I'm funny that way.

This chapter was mostly filler stuff, please forgive me... I was out of inspiration (what kind of name is the Lions' Den, I ask you? No really, I'm asking you, because if you have something better, I'll change it in a heartbeat!). I blame it on my cold.

See you soon.


	10. Interlude - Demons

Enjoy...

* * *

**The Chase**

**Interlude - Demons**

* * *

Sebastian "Bass" Monroe really needed to calm down. The girl was getting under his skin.

At first, he had just felt responsible for Charlie because she was Miles' niece and Rachel's daughter. In some cruel way, they were the closest thing to a family he had left – even though they had tried to kill each other several times. Protecting her had been his way of atoning for his numerous sins.

He understood her motives for wanting to kill him, hell, he had even encouraged her. He didn't think much of himself either... But now that she had changed her mind, he didn't know what to think anymore.

For as long as he could remember, at least ever since his family had died, he had been alone. Miles had been the only one who still cared for him, and that made his betrayal all the more upsetting. Even when Bass had still been a general, with soldiers obeying his every whim, he had never felt more lonely, paranoia constantly crippling his mind and preventing him from making any kind of connection with people. In a way, his fall from power had helped him. He was still tormented by horrible nightmares and guilt, but he was no longer responsible for countless lives and he no longer had to fear for mutiny and enemy attacks.

He had been at the bottom of his life, just waiting for anything to happen – life or death, it didn't matter either way to him – when she had appeared out of nowhere, with her crossbow and her harsh words. And she had blown his mind.

Like her mother, she was one of the strongest women he had ever met. She showed no fear whatever the situation, did not hesitate to use dirty tricks to get what she wanted and she knew how to handle herself in this world full of despair and misery. He had thought her a little girl, but boy had she proved him wrong. She was more of a woman than many female creatures he had met, and slept with. Her age didn't matter. She had seen things and been through much more stuff than the average man.

And it didn't hurt that she was extremely beautiful…

Bass wasn't one to become easily attached to another human being. But he had found that his need to protect her went beyond any debt he felt he owed Miles or Rachel. No, this need had become something of its own. He just didn't want to see her get hurt. And he felt like he would kill anyone who would dare try.

During that time when they were both prisoners, when the giant bald man had injured her, he had kept his calm demeanor. But deep inside, his familiar demon had stirred up with rage and the will to destroy everything, no matter the consequences. Yet, the sight of Charlie killing that Evelyn Grace woman had calmed it instantly – or maybe it was the look in her eyes, empty of emotion.

And now his demon had awakened again in the presence of Adam, except it was jealousy this time that fueled its wrath.

Jealousy was not new to him. Indeed he had always felt some measure of it regarding Miles, mixed as it was with admiration and respect. He had been envious of the attention Miles got, mostly from women, which was one of the many reasons he had always gone after women his best friend dated. He had been jealous of Miles' family, especially after he had lost his own, for they would do anything for each other.

He knew that this jealousy was a result of his own insecurities; he was very lucid on the matter. Still, it had always been a part of who he was. But to experience it because of someone he barely knew, in a manner of speaking, that was very new to him.

He had never doubted the effect of his charm on women in general, but never once had he tried to use it to its full extent on Charlie. To him, she had been off limits.

However, how could he resist her when she was the one pushing his buttons? He did not delude himself in thinking she actually _liked _him. No, her attraction was purely physical and the fact remained that she had probably loathed every moment of it, at least mentally. But now, he couldn't get her out of his mind. He was thinking about how good she had felt under him, how sweet her lips had tasted and how passionate she had been. Images of the previous night plagued his every thought.

He hated Adam with all his might because he had been the cause of their interruption, but the rational part of his brain also thanked him because if he hadn't, he didn't know where Charlie and he would be right now. Probably, she would have felt disgusted with herself and she would have left him.

Still, it didn't mean he was going to let Adam have his way with her. He knew the look on the bounty hunter's face pretty well, for having worn it many times: it was the look of longing. And it meant trouble. Charlie was clearly not interested though. At least, she didn't give off any sign that she was. But Adam had the advantage of youth, which Bass obviously lacked.

His reasoning was stupid and he knew it, because it wasn't as if there were any chance of anything else happening between him and Charlie. But the feelings remained nonetheless. If he couldn't have her, no one could.

* * *

I just thought I should do something special for my 10th chapter. I know it doesn't move the story onward, but it's still some insight in Monroe's thougts so it's worth it, right?

And I'm much better, thank you, and sorry for my sore mood last chapter (I tend to do that when I'm sick). Thank you also for all the good reviews, I'm trying to update quickly but I'm no machine so don't be too impatient ^^

See you soon.


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